


21

by stelleappese



Series: 30 drabbles [14]
Category: IndyCar RPF
Genre: First Dates, M/M, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 12:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18571756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleappese/pseuds/stelleappese
Summary: "It's not a date," chuckles Dario, uncomfortably. "It's, uh. An apology. As I said.""Yeah, you said that, but you didn't apologize, did you?"





	21

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BradleyJardine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradleyJardine/gifts).



> [BradleyJardine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BradleyJardine/pseuds/BradleyJardine) asked for a Dario/Will first date. I tried lol.

It seems, to Dario, as if things are going well.  
Or, uh. Well enough, at least?  
Will _has_ been glaring knives at him since they sat down, arms crossed, a suspicious look on his face; but he's also been eating what they've been served so far and hasn't attempted to murder Dario, so. That _can_ be considered progress. Right?  
Except right as dessert is being placed in front of them, Will starts frowning. He looks around a little, looks at Dario up and down.  
"What's wrong?" asks Dario, trying to sound as cheerful and non-confrontational as possible.  
"You said you wanted to apologize, but this feels more like a fucking date." Will says. Dario freezes. "It's just the two of us, you've been asking me questions throughout the whole meal and smiling like an idiot, and our table is apart from all the other tables."  
"It's not a _date_ ," chuckles Dario, uncomfortably. "It's, uh. An apology. As I said."  
"Yeah, you said that, but you didn't apologize, did you?"  
Dario fidgets on his chair.  
"Well, uh. As I said, it was a racing accident, and..."  
"That's not an apology, and this is a fucking date." Will repeats.  
Dario hesitates. He sets down his spoon, abandoning his soufflé.  
"I still think we share the blame," he says, and Will immediately starts ruffling up indignantly like an angry cat. "But I am sorry you got mad."  
"Your apologies are shit, d'you know that?"  
"Also, uh, a date is a date if you want it to be a date, right?" Dario laughs, nervously.  
Will squints at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.  
"Nothing." Dario says, way too quickly.   
"If you try to kiss me after driving me back home, I _will_  punch you in the dick." Will says, underlining the dick-punching part by tapping his finger on the table.  
"Noted." Dario murmurs, taking a long sip of wine.  
Will sits back, crosses his arms again, goes back to staring at Dario with that unsettling expression of his.  
"Listen, I _am_  sorry..."  
"Oh, shut up." Will says, "You keep telling anybody who puts a microphone in front of you that you respect me, and yet you keep talking so much _shit_."  
"I'm not trying to insult you..."  
"Then don't. Stop with the halfassed apologies if you don't mean them. Be fucking honest, for once."  
"You didn't give so much grief to Tagliani, though, did you?" Dario mutters, and regrets it immediately. He's getting ready for Will to throw his soufflé at him, but Will doesn't move at all.   
"That's because Tagliani is a wanker," he says, slowly. "And you are not. A whiny fuck, yes. And a coward. But you're _good_. Which means you knew exactly what you were doing."  
Some may read it as an accusation, but Dario knows that, for Will, what he just said is a compliment.  
He doesn't really know how to bring the conversation back on friendly territory (if it ever _has_  been a friendly conversation at all,) so he just shrugs.  
"Ok," he says, abandoning his soufflé for good and crossing his arms as well. "I could have hugged the wall a little more."  
"Really."  
"I thought you'd take the hint and give me some room, but you didn't."  
"You're not a good judge of character, are you." Will says.  
"I guess not." Dario shrugs, "But it wouldn't have changed much if I'd known you'd stay put. You were in my way."  
There's a brief moment in which Dario thinks he's maybe being _too_  honest. Will raises an eyebrow at his words, then, surprisingly, he smiles. It's a small, ironic smile, but a smile nonetheless.  
"See, it wasn't that hard," Will says.  
"Does that mean you're not mad at me anymore?"  
"I am absolutely still fucking mad at you," Will says, but his tone is calmer than it has been all night. "Maybe not enough to punch you in the dick, though."  
It takes a moment before the words fully sink into Dario's brain.  
"Oh," he murmurs.  
"Eat your fucking soufflé," Will answers. Dario quietly obeys.


End file.
